Aware
by epicfrenchfry
Summary: Gilbert was very aware of the things around him. He knew more than he let on, such as how he lived for no apparent reason, even so long after the dissolution of Prussia. He wears a mask for the purpose of his brother's happiness, feigning his own in order to do so. But inside he was empty.


**Happy birthday Gilbert! Sorry your present this year is so downcast and brooding.**

 **I do not own Hetalia.**

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 _Mono no aware- "Bittersweet awareness of the passing moments of life."_

Gilbert was very aware of his surroundings. He watched his civilians grow up with each passing day, their lives progressing until one day it was nonexistent. But there was always new life, always a new baby born for him to watch grow old and wither away. They spent their lives discovering who they were, their purpose in life, and what they were to do with it.

Gilbert had come into being with all of this knowledge already inside of his head. He knew who he was, what he was, and what he stood for. He knew that his life would be dedicated to his people and he never wavered in this prospect, not even when that man rose to power and threatened them all. He'd never feared a human before those days, but the wide-spread power and influence Hitler had employed was enough to persuade Gilbert to follow him and his dear brother in their conquest of Europe and subsequent war.

He paid dearly for it. He stood now a being without any purpose or meaning for his existence. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His skin was pale, eyes dull and lifeless. He was a fool to be reduced to this. How pathetic he was, wearing a mask every day just to fool the ones he loved into believing he was okay.

His life seemed to have passed in a blinding flash. It was a glorious life colored red with blood, lit with the bright silver of his blade. But for all those brilliant and wonderful centuries filled with blood and warfare, what did he have to show for it now that it was over? A rusting sword hung on display in his room in his brother's basement? A body littered with old and ugly scars? A body that should be dead.

The ugly, pale face in the mirror stared balefully back at him. A wide smile spread across its face, bright and happy, everything he used to be, everything he was supposed to be. This was the mask he wore, burdened to never remove. He wore the mask because he knew how it would hurt his brother and friends to see what he had turned into. He was a very good actor, but the loss of his sense of self had damaged him far too much for him to ever be the same man they knew and cared for once again.

Without his status as a nation, he was empty inside. The country of Prussia, and formerly the Teutonic Knights, had been his heart and soul, his entire life, and to lose it was like losing those. What did he live for? Nowadays, his purposeless existence was solely devoted to doting on his brother. Gilbert really did love Ludwig, and though he was an empty shell of his former self he retained that utter adoration. It was the only thing that seemed to keep him going. Without Ludwig, Gilbert knew he likely would have offed himself shortly after his country's dissolution. But Ludwig needed him, though he acted otherwise, and Gilbert just couldn't bring himself to abandon him.

At the moment, his dear beloved brother was upstairs preparing a birthday cake just for him. Gilbert scoffed at the idea. Birthdays... What was the point in celebrating another year of this pointless life of his? He didn't even enjoy it so why should he celebrate it?

But of course he never voiced these thoughts. He laughed and grinned and ruffled Ludwig's meticulous blonde hair, because that is what his old self would have done and that was what Ludwig expected. He turned away from the mirror, feeling that if he stared at himself for a moment longer he would end up planting his fist into it.

His faithful companion, the ever-present little yellow bird, fluttered over with a friendly twitter and perched on his head, nestled into his hair. He stroked its tiny head mechanically. Yes, he cared for this creature as well. Yet another reason to continue on with this miserable existence.

Ludwig called for him from upstairs. The cake was ready.

He hated his meaningless life, but he loved his brother so he would never allow for Ludwig to find his body as a result of suicide. He hated this vacant shall that he had become, but he would live on for his brother's sake. For his brother's sake, he plastered on a wide smile and jogged upstairs to meet him, bright and happy just like usual.

Perhaps his brother was his meaning for life. Perhaps Ludwig was why he'd stuck around and didn't fade even as so many decades passed by. So much time had passed since his dissolution, yet he remained. If Ludwig was the reason, then just maybe he could find himself once again.

And for the first time in over sixty years, a true smile flitted over his face. It was small and fleeting, but with it came a breath of hope into his desolate self. If Ludwig was his purpose, he would live as long as necessary for him. This mask he wore would be his saving grace, never wavering in its consistency. If Ludwig was his purpose, he could accept that. For Ludwig, he could be happy.


End file.
